Dear Potential Spell Breaker
by orangebluethought
Summary: Due to our beloved prince's unfortunate run in with a malevolent fairy he has been placed under the well-known Beast Syndrome. Unfortunately the only known cure for this illness is for the prince to fall in love and marry a beautiful lady. So we need your support. Pease fill out the questionnaire on the backside of this letter and return it as soon as possible.
1. Chapter 1

Don't own

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The rumors have been circulating for a few weeks before the questionnaires arrive. Belle rolls her eyes at the squealing of her sisters as they scramble to snatch their parchment from the messenger's hands. She waits patiently for her own and nearly chokes in laughter as she reads the script.

_Questionnaire for the Potential Spell Breaker_.

Belle raises an eyebrow, tries to catch the messenger's eye (he ignores her with the air of someone rather lacking in a sense of humor—or maybe he's just annoyed by the high pitch screams of her siblings). Returning her eyes to the ornate parchment, she is interrupted in her reading by her elder sister's shout.

"There's a note from the king!" (Belle believes if people could talk with multiple exclamation marks, her sisters would have perfected the art) She returns her gaze to her parchment and finds that there is indeed a letter from the king on the back of the questionnaire.

_Dear Potential Spell Breaker,_

_Due to our beloved prince's unfortunate run in with a malevolent fairy he is under the well-known Beast Syndrome. Unfortunately the only known cure for this illness is for the prince to fall in love and marry a beautiful lady within the time span of two years. So we need your support. Pease fill out the questionnaire on the backside of this letter and return it as soon as possible._

_The King_

"It _is_ signed by the king!" Her other sister shouts, and Belle studies the mark with amusement. (The signature is obviously false, but Belle figures there is no point in trying to explain to her sisters).

Her sisters immediately rush to fill out the questionnaire; Belle subtly slides her paper between the fireplace kindling and heads upstairs to her room. She reaches for the rather plain mirror set atop one of the overflowing bookshelves lining the walls of the room. Breathing on the mirror, she taps the glass three times before calling out.

"Tommy?" The fog on the glass swirls and condenses into the figure of a young, auburn haired man.

"Hello Ella." He smiles at her as she rolls her eyes at the nickname.

"We received proof of the prince's misfortune today." She smirks back at her friend. "They sent out a questionnaire, searching for potential "beauties" to break the curse. Apparently, they will accept 20 women into the castle for the year."

"Ah, I suppose they do not believe I will find a cure? It is considered impossible, so I can understand their doubt."

"Wouldn't be the first impossible thing you've managed. Six before breakfast, like Alice."

"Did you just compare me to a fictional little girl?" He asks with amusement.

"Yep. I'll make you a blue dress." She smirks. "So, what are your present theories?"

"I have been unraveling the basic spell structure on the curse, but Fairytale magic is very different from Elemental abilities so most of my books are useless. And, unfortunately, the palace library is not very well stocked in any magic theory."

"You should have called me earlier." She admonishes, flipping through her book collection, "My collection is far more diverse than yours. The only benefit of not having any magic myself is not choosing a specific branch of focus…oh, and the fact that I willingly study science." A pause as she continues searching. "Ha! Found them." She snatches several books from one of her shelves. "I'll send these to you as soon as possible."

"Thanks Ella."

"Always. Keep me informed, and I'd like a copy of your notes. I'll check whether the spell directly affects the physiology of the prince. If it is biologically relevant, I may have to come down and help."

"Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

"There seems to be a rather unsubtle alteration to the prince's genetic code." Belle mentions, sorting through pages of observations, as she and Tommy mirror talk.

He sighs, scanning through his own notes. "So it's not a well made illusion?"

"Nope. At the moment the prince really is no longer human."

"Right." He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. "No matter how skilled I may be at Fire magic, I really don't understand biology, so I'm definitely going to need your help." He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Normally I'd just invite you as my guest, but with the present…problems at the castle, (and without you having magic) it might be difficult to convince people you actually _need_ to stay and are not taking advantage of my hospitality to try to marry the prince or something equally as absurd." He stops, considering. "You're pretending to be a seamstress at the moment aren't you?"

"Not pretending Tom I am one."

"We both know you're really a scientist."

She rolls her eyes. "So, what? You recommend me as seamstress for the Prince's entourage."

"Why not?"

!

Belle arrives to the already earsplitting squeals of her sisters as they maul the messenger. She smiles at the poor boy and holds out a hand for the scroll he is clenching. "May I?" A calming hand on his arm as she unrolls the paper. Clearing her throat she straightens up next to the man. Her sisters immediately stop squabbling and the messenger suddenly feels quite inferior (even if the house is rather shabby, and she is dressed quite plainly).

"The prince," Belle reads, "invites Misses Penelope and Jasmine Grace to the castle as potential spell breakers. No more than two trunks per person and your carriage will leave in an hour." She pauses, looks up at her sisters who are still staring blankly at her, turns to the messenger and hands the scroll back. "Well, that was nice. Straight and to the point. I was expecting more extravagant wording, but I suppose it is unnecessary when the recipients will be too excited to notice the phrasing." The messenger is eyeing her warily, as though half expecting her to break into tears at the lack of invitation for herself, when she turns back to her sisters. "Well, go on then," She waves her hand in a shooing motion, "you only have 55 more minutes before you have to leave."

The stunned silence is broken as the two girls dissolve into high pitch giggles and screams as they race upstairs.

The messenger is still watching her warily as she smiles at him. "Would you like to come into the kitchen?" The look of worry on his face intensifies at the odd comment.

"Um…"

"We have wine." She offers nonchalantly, walking towards a set of wooden double doors to her right.

The man winces as another loud shriek reverberates through the hall.

"It's also the quietest room in the house." She grins as he practically runs through the door, before closing it behind them.

"Did you want any wine? Water? Something to eat?

"No, thank you." He offers her a chair, and joins her at the table. "Actually, I have a question, if you don't mind."

She eyes him knowingly. "I am not upset I was not chosen, I never turned in my application. Didn't really feel it was the best way to resolve the issue. Besides, I don't want to marry the prince. If he's arrogant enough to get himself into this situation, than he is not the man for me." She glances back at him. "Did I answer your question?"

"I…um, yes. One of them."

"Oh, what else do you want to know?" She leans back in her chair, and smiles kindly at him.

"If those are your sisters Jasmine and Penelope, that would make you Annabelle?"

"Yes." She sits up. Wary, and serious.

"As there will be plenty of ladies in need of fine clothes for the coming months, His Majesty, King Edward and Her Majesty, Queen Julia would like to request your attendance at the castle to work as a seamstress for the duration of the prince's illness." He sounds almost as though reading from a script. Belle considers grabbing his hand to see if there are any notes on the back. "You were recommended by Sir Tomas: Court Magician, Level 15 Fire Mage, and Sage of the Fire Temple, and um..." He blinks at his hand (yep, she decides, definitely reading) before glancing back up at her. She arches an eyebrow.

"Is that all?"

"I-yes." He sucks in a sharp breath. "Have you really met the Court Magician?"

"I made his ceremonial gowns."

"Ah, yes, of course." Awkward pause, "Shouldn't you be packing? Their majesties wish for you to come in the same carriage as your sisters."

"Oh! No, I'll be fine; I just need five minutes or so to pack. I should write my father some notes on the housekeeping for while I am away though."

He doesn't really believe her, but nods as she reaches for some parchment and begins writing.

!

"Annabelle?" The messenger calls, gently placing a hand over hers to halt her furious scribbling. She has already filled several sheets of paper with detailed directions for her father. The sheet she is presently writing is filled with strange symbols that remind him of math as well as some he has only ever seen in the court magician's notes. "Annabelle, we have to leave in about five minutes, you need to pack."

"Oh." She jerks up. "Right, of course." She sticks her thumb and index finger in her mouth and releases a sharp piercing whistle. There is a scuttling sound and a loud thump on the door before it bursts open. A large trunk painted a vibrant blue and _walking_ on short stumps that vaguely resemble insect legs (the messenger squeezes his eyes shut and reopens them, but the trunk is still there) runs to Belle and stops, looking very much like a dog sitting at it's master's feet. Belle kneels down and pats it on what the messenger can only assume to be the head. "Can you get everything packed Casey?" The trunk gives an affirmative squeak. "Good boy. Let's see if you can break your record time." The trunk squeaks again and runs out the door.

She stands back up and makes to follow the case out of the room, but the messenger's hand snaps out and grabs her arm. "W-W-What w-was th-that?"

"Casey? A bit of an accident really. A friend of mine is a magician and Casey is, well, the product of an experiment." The man's grip is still strong and he is still pale, so she continues. "Don't worry, Casey is just a suitcase. A bit more, uh, _personable_ than most bags, but we were only seven when we designed him. The original intention was a suitcase that could pack itself, which we _did_ achieve. We just didn't account for the whole…uh, _alive_ thing." She shrugs. "When we realized it was sentient we named it The Suitcase, and Casey has been with me ever since. He's closer to a dog than anything else." She feels his grip slacken as she continues talking. "For people who invented a living suitcase, we were rather uncreative in the naming." Finally she can pull her arm away, and she resumes her exodus. "I should check on my sisters and make sure they are ready. Perhaps, you could prepare the carriage? If we don't leave immediately, Jasmine and Penelope will start remembering other things they need and we will never get out of here on time."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Since I can't respond to your review through email:**

**Curse you Perry the Platypus: I'm glad you like Casey, but he's not completley mine. I forgot to mention this last time. He's based off The Luggage from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, although my suitcase is less likely to eat people, and blue.**

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After being shown her room in the castle (surprisingly well endowed for a domestic servant's quarters, though she suspects that may be due to Tommy's influence) she let's Casey out in the garden to chase after the birds that he'd been eyeing (or at least she suspects he's been eyeing them, it's difficult to tell without him actually having eyes—or any facial features for that matter).

Deciding she's been cooped up in that tiny carriage for too long she meanders through the castle corridors to explore, and possibly find Tommy.

Most of the rooms on the first floor are locked, crowded with guests (It seems some of the potential spell breakers chose to bring their families along.) or really, really boring. Belle is considering whether there are any rooms worth visiting on this floor of the castle, when the walls quiver and the door two in front of her opens in invitation. "Thanks sweetheart," she murmurs, running a hand along the castle stonework in gratitude.

The room is the size of a small ballroom, with rows upon rows of floor to ceiling shelves piled with books. Several comfortable looking chairs surround large desks, and a cozy couch sits beside one of the (there are three!) fireplaces. She sighs in appreciation, running a hand over the smooth dark wood of the nearest bookshelf.

"Excuse me miss?" A portly man dressed in servant robes laced with the gold of a Head, and a large mustache that overwhelms his face is watching her with a slightly annoyed look as he eyes her simple (although well made) clothing. "All the family members of contestants are to be in the hall for introductions." Apparently, she isn't dressed fancy enough to be an _actual_ spell breaker. She considers the irony with a carefully polite expression. He takes her arm. "If you would come this way."

She shrugs out of his grip. "Actually, I'm not here with a contestant," which is technically true, she's here with two, and a job offer. "I was hoping to speak with Tommy. Do you know if he is in here?"

"Do you by chance mean Sir Thomas, the Court Magician?"

"Yep."

"I am afraid that is impossible, the Court Magician does not visit with…" He looks her over disapprovingly, "just anyone."

"He'll meet with me." She smiles, saccharine sweet and holds out her hand for him to take. The man has a brief moment to panic at her expression before she continues. "I'm Annabelle Grace…the seamstress here on Sir Tomas's recommendation." The smile morphs into a wicked grin as the man's mouth drops open in horror. "What did you say your name was?" The question drips with sugar coated innocence.

"I-I'm, I am Cogsworth, th-the head…um. I'm so sorry…I-" His difficulty speaking seems directly proportional to his stunned expression.

She feels a bit guilty as he continues stuttering (even if he _was_ a condescending jerk). "Don't worry about it, Cogsworth. I sort of set you up for that, it's always amusing to see people's reactions, and I really would like to find him." He looks a bit less worried, and takes her offered hand before giving it a kiss. She raises an eyebrow, amused. He's apparently a bit of a suck-up, too.

"Sir Thomas was just here, my Lady." Back to pompous (although a bit more respectful) head servant again. "Right this way." He takes her arm and leads her toward the back of the library.

"Oh, Ell there you are." Tommy calls, appearing from between two stacks, arms loaded with books that he quickly drops on a side table. "It's been way too long since I have seen you in person." He sighs, pulling her into a hug.

"Agreed." She embraces him back. "But I am here for the duration of this beauty contest thing, that's a whole year of my company." She pulls away, smiling.

"Good." He grins.

Cogsworth makes a sort of choking noise and the two turn back to him.

"Oh, thank you for your help sir." She smiles, eyes glittering in mirth.

"Of course." He observes the two of them suspiciously, but doesn't say anything else.

Tommy breaks the silence by grasping her hand and exclaiming. "Come on Ella, let me give you a tour."

"I've been here before Tommy."

"Sentient castle remember? She's remodeled."

"Yeah, but She likes me, as long as She's in a good mood I wont get lost...though judging by most of the rooms I found earlier, She's not very happy."

He nods in agreement. "She's been asked to keep everything in one place while the guests are here."

Belle hisses. Asking the castle to stay still was like asking a human to sit in a chair without moving for a year. "Definitely not very happy then."

"No, not remotely…I suspect some of the less liked contestants might still find it difficult to locate their rooms."

She laughs, "Most likely. If I was her, I would probably permanently turn the royal suites lime green or vibrant orange or something…Ooh both at the same time." A content purring rumbles through the walls. The servant watches Belle with surprise, mouth open almost as far as when she introduced herself, and sputters. (Belle wonders if start-struck horror is his default expression.)

"I think She just took my advice." The girl pats the nearest wall.

"Better hope the Royals don't find out it was you." Tommy smiles cheekily at her. "Not sure I could save you from that."

"Best not tell them then." She replies. "Although, I'm not adverse to breaking in to see." She sends him a mischievous smile and he laughs. "Anyway, onto a safer topic. Weren't you planning on giving me a tour? Besides, we should probably check on Casey. I left him outside chasing birds and there's a good chance he's ended up in the lake after stalking one of the swans."

"Let's head there first, it'll be good to see him again."


	4. Chapter 4

They find Casey lying on the sand by the lake, looking forlorn and rather waterlogged. There is a chip in his paint where one of the swans snapped at him and he makes a sad chirping noise as his owner approaches. Belle settles next to him on the sand, dragging Tommy down with her.

"What did I tell you about chasing swans little one?" Casey responds by perking up and batting her hand in the universal sign of dogs (and sentient dog-like creatures) asking to be pet. "It's a good thing you're nearly indestructible, because I know you'd never listen anyway." She gives in and rubs him on the head. Tommy laughs and reaches over her to pet him also. The Suitcase crows with excitement when he recognizes his other creator. He struggles over Belle before settling on the magician's lap.

"Oof, you're a bit heavy for that, dearest." Tommy gasps while Belle snickers. "Alright, alright, you can stay." He consoles when the box whimpers. They sit that way, petting Casey and watching the birds on the lake for several minutes, before Tommy brings up the topic he knows is bothering his friend.

"What about your father?"

She sighs, laying back on the sand and staring up at the cloudless sky. "Aunt Mary just had a baby, so he was up visiting her when we left. I sent him a letter detailing what had occurred, and suggesting he stay a little longer, which I know Mary wont mind. You remember our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson?" He nods. "Well I spoke to them while our luggage was being loaded onto the carriage and they assured me they would watch out for Dad. He has the mirror, so he can contact me if necessary. Unless he wants to come here, there is nothing else I can do."

"I'm sorry Elle, when I suggested you come here to help me, I didn't realize your sisters would be chosen. I know it worries you to leave him alone."

"He's been doing much better, I think he's finally accepting Mom's death. I'm just a little concerned he'll regress. I told him to contact me with the mirror when he gets home."

"I really am sorry Ell."

"I know; I don't blame you. And I really am excited to get a chance to properly talk with you…Perhaps I will write a letter to Aunt Mary and explain the situation. He would be more likely to stay if she asks."

"I'll fetch you paper when we go back inside."

"Thanks." She smiles her appreciation.

"Sir Thomas." A strong voice interrupts. Belle looks up to see a very hairy…something, focused on her friend.

Your Highness." Tommy manages something vaguely resembling a bow from his sitting position. Casey growls and Tommy lays a calming hand on his back and he settles.

Belle blinks. In comparison to her imaginings, the prince looks down right cuddly. He has paws, but his claws are short and well maintained and he still has opposable thumbs. Only his canines are pointed and not much longer than normal, and his eyes are a human shade of blue. He is covered in dark brown hair, it's long and silky and…slightly curly. He looks like the cross between a bear, a lion and a show poodle. She clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

The Prince maintains his distance and doesn't seem bothered by Tommy's lack of proper greeting. He is staring so intently at her friend that Belle is certain he doesn't even notice her or Casey. She glances at Tommy, questioningly, but he's not looking at her. "My room seems to be an unsightly shade of green with orange polka dots." Tommy is biting his lip to keep from laughing and Belle shoves her fist in her mouth. Seems the castle really did listen to her. "I would appreciate it if you would take a look and see whether there is anything you can do?" It is oddly polite, a request. Not at all how Belle expected the prince to act.

"Of course I will." Tommy states, gently pushing Casey from his lap and standing up. He offers Belle his hand and pulls her to his feet. "Let's go."

"I requested your presence, not your maid's." The prince attempts, but his snub catches on the tremor in his voice.

"Ell is my friend, she will be accompanying me." Tommy's eyes flash fire and the air sizzles. The prince steps back.

"I-yes, of course." And he turns to lead them inside.

Belle sends Casey back to his bird hunting and joins Tommy behind the prince.

"Do you think he's more afraid of you because you're a fire mage, you're powerful enough to be the court magician at 25, or because you're good friends with the King of the dragons?" She asks, quiet enough the prince can't hear.

Tommy looks sheepish. "Caught that, did you?"

"It was sort of obvious."

He sighs, "I think it's a bit of all three really. And seriously," he says shaking his head at her, "Kazul visited me once, to tell me she was King, you're the one she borrows cooking utensils from and introduces to her Princesses."

Belle laughs, "It's a good thing we have that forest behind our house, I'm not sure how the neighbors would react if they knew I had regular visits from dragons. Besides, the only reason I know any dragons is because I'm friends with you. It's not my fault I'm more likable."

"You're charismatic, charming, people tend to like you or at least respect you. Unlike me, who people just fear."

"Yeah, because as soon as they do something you don't like you start sparking."

"The consequences of being a fire mage."

"Hmm, didn't we discuss this when you were deciding on a field of magic?" It's said jokingly, but it is serious. It was their first real fight, and she thinks he sometimes still feels guilty.

"Ella." He warns.

"I'm pretty sure we had this conversation."

"Ella."

"No, really, it went something like: 'Ella I want to be a fire mage' and then I said, 'wait Tommy, isn't that really dangerous?' and then you said 'don't worry, I'll be fine', and I asked how you would deal with the whole 'no-physical-contact-until-your-a-level-10-fire-ma ge-unless-you-want-to-burn-the-person' thing and you maintained nothing would go wrong. And then, when I pointed out, you sort of have a temper, and the fact that fire is unpredictable and likely to lash out, you assured me you didn't mind if people were afraid of you."

"Ella!"

She turns to look at him and rolls her eyes at his crackling hair. "You're the one who brought it up Tom, besides, I don't mind anymore." She reaches up and runs a hand through his auburn locks, gasping as a spark burns her.

He pulls her hand away, studying the mark on her palm.

"It's fine Tom, I have ointment in my room." She assures him. "Seems I'll have to talk one of the dragons into redoing my fireproofing spell."

"I can do it."

"No you can't, last time you tried I ended up with half my hair singed off. I had to cut it so short I had to leave it down all the time, _which_, may I remind you, is considered entirely improper. Do you have any idea how many questions I had to avoid answering about that? Also, your magic wont necessarily protect me from dragon fire."

"Umm." The prince interrupts turning back to the arguing couple. He doesn't appear to have heard what they are saying, but their tone is obvious. "We are here." His gaze skips between the two, finally landing on Belle. She looks away at his unsettling stare.

Tommy reluctantly releases her hand. "This conversation isn't over."

She nods, catching his eyes. "I trust you not to hurt me." And she smiles at him. "Lets go see what the castle did to the prince's room. We'll discuss after."

He dips his head in acceptance and smiles softly back at her.

* * *

**a/n: For those of you who have read the the "Enchanted Forest Chronicles" by ****Patricia C. Wrede, I'm sure you recognized my King of the Dragons. Yes, I sort of stole Kazul, as well as some of the Dragon culture, but magic techniques fall within my own story idea and there is no actual Enchanted Forest. **

**For those of you who have not read them, you should, they're very good and unique. She takes normal fairy tale ideas a spins them on their heads. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Very, very vaguely suggestive, where I probably don't have to up the rating, and I doubt it will get any worse but just in case this story is now teen.**

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The prince's room looks very...interesting (it's the kindest word she can come up with). Belle counts 5 different shades of vibrant green as well as fluorescent orange along the walls and bedding. The wood furniture is an unattractive burnt umber color that clashes with the rust red of the carpet. She strokes one of the glowing spots on the wall and appreciates the prince's annoyed expression. His eyes fix on her hand. He brushes his own against the wall and yelps as She zaps him. Removing his paw he glares at the stonework. Belle smiles. Serves him right for forcing immobility on the poor castle.

"Have you tried asking the castle?" Tommy inquires, eyebrows raised in barley-concealed amusement, and there is an undertone to his words that Belle doesn't quite recognize.

"Yes and she refuses to talk to me." He sounds almost sulky, and Belle smothers a laugh.

"Good job, Old Girl." She whispers. The castle hums back her agreement. The prince's eyes snap back to Belle, but she pointedly ignores him and continues cooing to the castle who seems decidedly smug.

Tom distracts the prince by asking the basic information gathering questions (even if he knows the answers) and the prince turns his attention back to the magician.

Belle flops on the bed and watches the two men converse. She absently sketches equations across the duvet with her finger, detailing possible solutions to the castle's revenge. She catches herself and stops when the prince's eyes flicker back to her, and interests herself in the tea the castle has placed on the bedside table instead. His eyes linger on the teacup in her hands for a moment with well-concealed surprise before he returns to the mage waiting impatiently beside him.

Tom starts a lecture on the speed of light and refractive indexes and wavelengths, and Belle settles back to listen as he explains physics concepts that have no real effect on his decision not to fix the room colors. The prince looks utterly confused, even if he is nodding his head along as thought he understands.

A bowl of popcorn casually appears beside the tea tray from the castle. Belle laughs at the offering and considers it, before shaking her head. "Thank you dear, but as entertaining as this is, I think I'll stop it before we end up with an hour long lecture on the properties of light and vision. She stands up moving between the two. Tom winks and she rolls her eyes at him. "If you are quite done with the Opthalmology lesson Tom, I believe you owe me a tour."

"What?" The prince inquires, "he is supposed to be fixing my room."

"Yes. And he just spent the last few minutes explaining why that would be difficult. Unless you _wanted_ a lecture on the physics of color?"

The prince gapes.

She curtsies only slightly mocking and offers her arm to Tom. "Shall we go?"

!

"As brilliant to watch as that was, you probably shouldn't have spoken to the prince like that." Tom chastises as they explore one of the small solariums. He abruptly pulls her away from one of the more dangerous potted plants she was studying, warning her about the protective enchantments from a lower level Earth magician employed at the castle.

"Don't worry so much Tom. I was fine for another few seconds. As for the prince..." She groans. "We're in a castle with 20 beautiful women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. How long do you think he'll remember me?"

He relents, "you're most likely going to be fine." Then he runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly, "Aren't you normally the cautious one?"

"Well, it's been awhile since I've needed to play court politics."

"There go all your chances of marrying the prince." He smirks at her.

She scoffs in return. "If famous and powerful was my type Tom, I'd be married to you by now"

"Ignoring the fact the Level 13 mages don't get married of course."

"Obviously."

"Actually, we probably could get married if we really wanted. All the Level 13s know you and respect you, and you have access to the fire temple as well as connections with the dragons."

"Really Tom?" Acid tone coated with disdain, "And how many marriages with Level 13s have turned out well? Because I was under the impression that all partners to Level 13s end up going crazy and attempting to take over the world. Isn't that why it's not accepted?"

"Well, yes as it stands presently, but-" She cuts him off with a hand.

"Answer's no Tom."

"It's not like you've ever followed the rules before."

"Yes, well I've never had a guarantee I'd become evil before."

"I'm sure it's not 100%."

"Do you want me to do the calculations?"

"Would you marry me if it wasn't a 100% chance?"

She pauses, watching him. "Do you actually _want_ to marry me?"

"Well the thing is," he rubs the back of his neck, "because my magic is so volatile I wouldn't be able to, um, unless I was married I wouldn't be able to," he makes a slightly obscene hand gesture, "have-"

She cuts him off again. "No," her voice squeaks slightly, "the answer is definitely no, and I really didn't need to know that."

They both go silent for an uncomfortable few minutes before she tentatively speaks. "Um, on a different note."

"Yes." He huffs.

"I'm, uh, not going to the feast tonight."

"What?"

!

They are still arguing about her dinner plans as they drag Casey up the stairs to her room several hours later.

"Oh, stop pouting Tom. You have to be there because you're the court magician, but no one will notice if I'm not. You can come whine about it after, but we both know I'd be bored to death and it's not like anyone would let us sit together without some sort of fight." She holds up a hand to stop him before he can argue. "No matter our friendship Tom, my sisters did not invite me to come, I'm here as a worker not a guest, and there's a good chance you'll overreact to anything deprecating said about me. We'll have dinner together tomorrow, when you don't have a celebration to attend."

"What is it with you today. You wont marry me, you wont sleep with me, now you wont eat with me, what's next?" He attempts to glare at her but his lips twitch. She loses the struggle with her expression first and they both collapse against the wall in laughter. The awkward tension from their conversation earlier dissolves, and they smile at each other.

"Alright," he holds up his hands in surrender. "I'll suffer through the feast without you, but," he points a finger at her mock sternly, "I am dropping by your rooms after to complain." He pats Casey on the head and opens the door. Stopping in the threshold he turns back to her with a serious look. "We are also going to spend tonight discussing a more permanent fireproofing for you."

She nods in reluctant acceptance. "Bring your mirror so we can talk to Kazul." and he leaves.


	6. Chapter 6

With Cogsworth's story about meeting Belle earlier and her known friendship with the intimidating court magician, it's obvious most of the staff expect her to be a bit condescending and a little terrifying. She notices as soon as she enters the kitchen for dinner that they are all a little frightened of her.

She sighs with annoyance and begrudged acceptance and settles next to Cogsworth with the hope that he'd be least likely to run from her in fear.

She's quite capable of being intimidating if she feels the need, but other than Cogsworth's incessant acclamation (she marks him as a good choice for a minion if she ever becomes a cliché evil villainess) and the almost suffocating mothering from the head maid Mrs. Potts (she's pretty certain it's more of a defense mechanism than any real affection on the older woman's part), she feels no desire to panic the servants.

The rest seem inclined to nervously pretend she's not there until one of the younger boys drops his cup and the glass shatters across her shoes. The eyes of all the others turn to her in worried anticipation.

When she kneels down and helps him pick up the pieces before offering to get him another drink, she can practically feel the surprise from the other diners as they stare at her. The almost tangible tension in the room cracks as she reaches for little Chip's hand and brings him into the kitchen. And when they return victorious, a steaming mug of hot chocolate held snug between the little boy's palms, she is greeted by smiles.

Almost immediately, Cogsworth grabs her gently by the shoulders and drags her around the tables. Introducing her to the staff members in a bit of a whirlwind, and she hopes they don't actually expect her to remember everyone's name, because she's pretty lost already and they are only at the second table. Cogsworth is eyeing her with a look very similar to the one he'd given in the library earlier as Mrs. Potts introduces Chip as her grandson and Belle is pretty sure she's just been hired as babysitter on call.

A tall, attractive looking man named Lumiere (she thinks he's head of stables, but she's sort of lost track of everyone) wiggles his eyebrows and flirts with her unabashed as he kisses her palm. She laughs when he turns and does the same to Cogsworth, who stutters and flushes pink.

She's suddenly become a member of this pseudo family and she enjoys the chaos as some of the staff shout questions at her and the children tug on her hands requesting their own cup of hot chocolate. Someone asks how she can be friends with Thomas when he frightens most people.

She shrugs. "I've known him for years, since before he was accepted to the fire temple. I know he'll never hurt me on purpose. Don't get me wrong, I've seen him as the terrifying fire mage before, had nightmares for weeks the first time, but he's a good person. I trust him." They stare at her, some with awe and others with looks she's pretty certain mean they think she's a little crazy.

"Is there anything that scares you?" One of the little boys asks, a chocolate milk mustache on his lip.

"Of course there is." She smiles softly at him. "Everyone's afraid of something."

"What is it?" He stares at her with wide eyed innocence and she cannot refuse him an answer.

"I've always been a bit afraid of the dark," she says with an attempt at nonchalance, but there's something in the way it sounds that is anything but calm, she shakes it off, refusing to continue with that thought and changes to an almost perky tone. "But I've always liked the night sky." Lumiere catches her eye, and saves her from more questions, offers to teach her how to ride (she was right, he is the stable master). She accepts graciously, and admits to having no real experience around horses.

Eventually everyone settles down and returns to their dinner, except for Chip, who sits beside her and tries to secret her the vegetables he doesn't want to eat, and Lumiere, who settles across from her and Cogsworth, alternating between winking at her and fluttering his eyelashes at the flustered other man.

!

She's half asleep on the armchair, book open on her lap and the fire closer to embers than flames when Tommy finally knocks softly on her door. The book falls to the floor as she jerks awake.

"Ell, you still awake?" He whispers.

"I am now."She grumbles back as she opens the door.

Tommy picks up her book and places it on the side table before stealing her spot on the chair. She attempts a glare, but she's to tired to pull it off properly. Instead she lays down on her bed and turns to face him.

"Bit late isn't it?"

He lays his head back and groans. "We just finished."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well it took most of the girls several hours and some wine before they were comfortable enough to talk to the prince."

"Mmh, I can imagine." Her jaw pops as she yawns.

"Your sisters were surprisingly confident. They were the first of the girls to talk to him"

"Not that surprising really." She strives to talk through another yawn as she sits up. "You've been my friend my entire life, and we both know your original magic attempts could be a bit..."

"Scary?"

"Yep. My sisters my have never directly faced anything but they have seen things the other girls probably haven't."

"Do you think your sisters will be likely choices?"

"I'm not sure. They are both be a bit, um, flighty."

He snickers at the understatement and she rolls her eyes.

"My sisters were always well accepted by the court members back when we were part of high society."

"So were you."

"Well, yes." She sighs, lying back down. "But I had to work at it."

"Tired?"

"Mmhmm" She nods, "it's a bit late to mirror call Kazul. Do you mind if we do it tomorrow?"

"Sure Ell. I'll be by tomorrow morning. Goodnight."

"Night."


	7. Chapter 7

Belle really wishes she'd specified a time to call Kazul when Tom dropped by last night because the sun isn't actually up yet, but somehow Tom is still insanely chipper.

"I forgot you're a morning person." She moans as he sets his mirror on the table.

He quirks an eyebrow at her. "You're the one who insisted we meet in the morning."

"I was under the impression _morning_ involved sunshine." She says, waving a hand at the still dark window.

"The mountains are ahead of us time-wise, it's already light there."

"Next time I'll make sure I'm more specific."

He laughs. "The royal family wants me to test the contestants for magic today, so I wont really have any time later. We'll go to breakfast in the kitchens after and you can convince the staff I'm not as terrifying as they think."

She accepts the apology, and nods. "Alright, but you're making me coffee," before leaning over the mirror to call Kazul.

Despite being far too early for coherent thought, the talk with the Dragon King goes well and she offers to send her grandchild to re-fireproof Belle once he gets back from visiting friends. After a brief conversation about possible reasons the spell stopped working, they hang up and head to breakfast.

!

After the way everyone acted the night before, Belle probably should have anticipated the sudden silence when she and Tom enter the kitchen. She plasters on a false smile and spends the next few minutes trying to convince her new friends that Tommy won't hurt them, without ever actually outright promising safety. (She has never been good at lying—at least not to people she likes—and she knows that just because Tom won't _purposely_ hurt them, it doesn't mean he _can't. _ So she sort of understands why they're afraid of him, even if she doesn't like it.) Tommy looks pained, and she has no idea what to do to make it better. Perhaps it was a bit early to assume the others would trust her enough to automatically accept Tom, but she really wants all her friends to get along.

Just when she's considering taking Tom and leaving, Chip steps up as savior once again. He moves from behind his grandmother where she not so subtly pushed him, and runs to give Belle a hug, despite the intimidating shadow at her side.

Tom's lips tilt in a slight grin as he turns to her. "Made a friend I see."

"Yep." She peels the little boy away from her legs and picks him up so he's closer to Tom's height. "This is Chip. Chip, this is my best friend, Tommy."

The boy smiles. "Can I hug him too?"

The two adults exchange slightly wary looks, and Tom nods cautiously. "Sure, but always ask him first." She warns as she places the boy back on the ground.

After that, the room is no longer quite so awkward, and Tom is even able to fetch Belle some coffee and eat his own breakfast before he's bombarded with questions. By the time he has to leave, most of the staff is comfortable talking to him (even if the idea of physical contact with someone who can catch them on fire is a bit much) and he's been invited to drop by whenever he wants (although it is thoroughly suggested that Belle always accompany him). It's more than he was anticipating, though Belle feels it's a bit unfair. He merely smiles at her and kisses her cheek before departing.

!

She runs into the prince on her way to riding lessons later. He doesn't notice her as he stalks down the hall, muttering about the castle turning the Great Hall pink during breakfast. Laughing, she strokes the castle wall and whispers her approval of the new decorations before skipping the rest of the way to the stables.

Lumere is excited to introduce her to the horses and teach her about riding. After a tour of the stables he brings out a chestnut horse named Phillipe for her lessons. He lectures her on breeds and riding styles, and she's pretty certain he's explained Phillipe's entire history before he lets her on the horse. He's a fascinating teacher and Belle asks if he can recommend any books, which he just laughs at and offers to let her visit whenever she wishes.

Eventually some of the girls come by the stables for some riding, and Lumere is forced to help them. Belle thanks him for the lessons, gives Phillipe an apple and a pat goodbye and heads back to the castle.

Maybe the library will have more advanced books on biology than she owns?

* * *

**mostly a filler chapter, but she will meet the prince properly in the next chapter**


	8. Chapter 8

There is to be a ball in a few months and Belle spends most of her time being bombarded by girls desperate for dresses _As Shining As The Stars_™ complete with Glass Slippers (which Belle feels would be both uncomfortable and dangerous—although she thinks the castle glass-blower probably enjoys the attention). It's not until the prince waltzes into her room without knocking that she realizes she will have to make his attire too. He struts around her room, looking mildly impressed by her bookshelf and a bit confused by Casey, who's growling at him from his nest under the bed. She rises from her curtsy when he turns back to her.

"I want my suit to be red, with silver trim and I want to look as human as possible." He demands.

She studies him, eyes sweeping his figure. Red and silver are certainly not the colors she would have chosen, and she's pretty certain making him look human is beyond her abilities, but she acquiesces anyway.

"Very well." She agrees, pulling out a measuring tape. His eyebrows skitter to his hairline.

"You're the girl who was with Sir Thomas the other day."

"Yes." She informs him calmly as she writes down measurements.

"You act like you're important, but really you're just a seamstress!"

She blinks at him, a little taken aback by his anger, before running a hand over her face. "You weren't supposed to remember that." She sighs, glancing up at him as he glowers before returning to her measurements. "Look," she states softly in an attempt to placate him. "I was just trying to save us all a few hours of exaggerated physics lectures. And knowing Tommy, he would have made sure it was really tedious and disconnected and confusing just because he was annoyed."

"Oh, how was _he_ annoyed? I'm the one with the technicolor bedroom."

"Yes, well..." Her hand stops writing and she sets down her pen and turns to look at him properly, struggling to keep her voice level. "Presently _I_ am on better terms with the castle than you, and I don't even live here regularly. Tommy wasn't about to anger her just because _you_ were a little upset."

"Maybe," he growls, "if you and Sir Thomas didn't indulge her, She wouldn't be angry at me."

"She's a sentient being and you told her to stand still and be quite for a year." She snaps, and winces at the tone, closing her eyes and breathing deeply to calm down before she starts actually yelling at him. "Of course She's angry."

He glares at her in an attempt at intimidating. She stares right back, eyebrow raised in slight challenge. He eventually turns away, fangs no longer bared. "Aren't you afraid of me?" It's so soft, she almost doesn't hear him.

"What?"

"You don't seem afraid of me." He repeats, louder this time, turning back to face her.

"What just happened?" Belle sputters. "You were just angry and yelling and now you're," she searches for words and fails, "well...not."

"No, I-it's just that everyone else seems so afraid of me, other than Thomas of course, but he could probably roast me alive if he wanted, even the girls who are supposed to be my love interests think I'm frightening, but you," he shakes his head in disbelief, "you just argued with me." His voice takes on a soft, almost reverent tone. "You actually, willingly disagreed with me and told me without fear of retribution. Even when I was human that was rare, but now that I'm a Beast..."

"Oh." She picks up the measuring tape again. "Um, well as you mentioned, Tommy's not afraid of you."

"And?"

"Well, I have been friends with him for years, even back before he had full control over his magic, when he could have accidentally killed me or burned me or caught my house on fire. So, uh, by comparison, you're really not that frightening."

He stares at her with a strange expression. "I am a Beast, I could rip you apart with my bare hands if I wanted."

"That's the point, though."

"Huh?"

"You'd have to be angry enough to want to hurt me."

"Alright, what about the fact that I'm the prince."

"What about it?"

"I could have you banished, or executed or something."

"Would you?" She implores softly. Her gaze flickers to his eyes before returning to her work.

"Well no, probably not. But it's still a possibility."

She doesn't say anything, laughs at his petulant expression.

"Okay." He says tentatively, watching her with a look akin to wonder. As though he's never seen anything quite like her before and he finds her fascinating. She's not really certain how to respond to that look so she starts scribbling designs in her journal. "How does a seamstress become friends with the most powerful magician in the Kingdom, one of the most powerful in the entire Realm?"

"I wasn't always a seamstress."

"Oh?"

"Ummhumm." She hums through the pen cap in her mouth as she opens a book of fabric swatches for him to choose from. Risking a glance up at him.

"What were-"

She holds up a hand to stop him. "We are not here to discuss my personal life." The tone is strong and commanding (and in that moment he can see the girl who is so comfortable being friends with someone as dangerous as the Level 13 fire mage) and he finds himself willingly obeying, even as he considers her with amazement. "These are the red fabrics I have access to." She returns to her journal. "Personally, I think you would look much more attractive in blue and gold." She rips out the finished page hands it to him. "The outfit designs I think would be best."

He takes the paper, but keeps his eyes on her. "Would I really look better in blue?"

"Yes. It would bring out your eyes, which are the most human part of your present appearance, besides the color matches your fur better."

"Oh." He turns to the sketches and points to one. "And I will go with the blue and gold."


	9. Chapter 9

Although their last meeting ended amicably, Belle is thoroughly surprised when the prince slides into the chair across from her normal table in the library.

"Did you need something Highness?" She glances up at him, eyebrow cocked questioningly.

"No, not exactly. It's just...ugh, now that the girls aren't so afraid of me they are starting to get annoying, I can't go anywhere without being followed." He huffs. "I can't stand them being simpering fools."

"Not everyone in the castle acts like that, you know."

"You don't."

"No and I'm not the only one who doesn't." She returns to her notes and calculations. "If you don't need me..."

"Actually, I was hoping we could talk."

"There are other people—"

"Not that I've met."

She sighs, tempted to mention that she makes a poor therapist, and dislikes politics, but notices his claws digging into the table. Surprised, she glances at his expression. He's growling slightly as he watches some of the girls titter as they stare at him from behind a bookshelf. The girls send her a glare and she rolls her eyes (She'll have a long lecture from Tom once _this_ gossip gets out). The prince's claws gouge deeper into the wood and his teeth bare. Her hand flutters for a few moments with indecision before she places it over his paw. The growling stops and he stares at her, wide eyed.

"Calm down, Highness. Those girls are here to help you break the curse, they're not supposed to make things worse."

"Doesn't mean they're not obnoxious." He groans. "Besides, Sir Thomas is searching for a cure."

"Yes, we are, but no cure other than the customary falling in love has ever been attempted before. So far we have not figured out anything more than the basic structure of the curse. It's a lot more complex than we originally assumed and this library is not very well stocked in fairytale magic or biology."

"You're helping him?"

"Yeah." She shrugs. "I assumed you knew. I've got the biology background that Tom lacks, and enough math and magic theories to understand him."

"Ah." He is unsure how to respond to _that _statement. "Um."

Belle hides a smirk behind her book. "Do you still want to talk?"

"Just let me recover from that revelation."

She laughs. "Alright."

!

Tom finds her before dinner and drags her to his lab, locking the door behind them.

"Explain."

She feigns ignorance. "Explain what?"

"Don't play Ell."

"Fine." She sighs, "I _may_ have mentioned my real opinion about the treatment of the castle during a...uh, slightly heated discussion with the prince...um."

Tom huffs through his clenched jaw. "And how does that explain the prince's sudden interest in stalking?"

She snorts at the insinuation. "Apparently most people refuse to tell him the truth and he finds my outlook refreshing." It's almost a question, as she eyes her friend warily.

"He could always come to me."

She rolls her eyes at him. "You terrify him."

"I would tell him the truth."

"How could he know that!" She exclaims, throwing her hands in the air. "You've never even had a conversation with him where you weren't trying to be intimidating."

"Doesn't mean I can't."

She exhales harshly. Ignoring the flames flickering around her friend's balled fists she grabs his (luckily flame free) shoulder and pulls him down onto the chair beside her.

"Okay, what's _really_ bothering you?"

He blinks up at her and the flames fade. "What?"

"You're not angry because he's talking to me...or at least your not _only _angry because of that. So, what is it?"

He gives in. "Some of the girls have noticed the sudden interest you've gained from _H__is_ _Royal__ Highness_," he stresses the title condescendingly, "and they're not happy about it." He settles more comfortably in the chair and turns to face her. "I overheard them discussing what they should do to you to retaliate."

"Hmm." She considers the possibilities. "What could they possibly do to me that you couldn't fix? Besides, it's not like I can't defend myself." He still looks worried, so she squeezes his arm. "If it will make you feel better, next time I see the prince I'll ask him not to come around too often and if you're still worried we can let Lumiere, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts know. I'm sure they can arrange some sort of protection."

"It's just irritating. This is the reason we decided to have you come for work and not as my guest, because you'd be less likely to get involved in the politics."

"Well..." She tries, "it's not like either of us expected the prince to take a liking to me...Maybe you can invite me to the Sunday night feasts as your guest and all the girls will be so terrified by our friendship they wont try anything."

He snorts. "That would mean you'd have to come to one of the feasts."

Her lips twitch in a smile. "Good point. Let's make that the last resort."

!

"Penny? Jaz?" Slightly surprised by her sisters' visit, Belle stares at them a few minutes before offering them a seat. "Would you two like some tea?"

"Not now." Penelope states.

"Ah, did you need something?"

"We wanted to warn you." Jasmine finishes.

"Warn me?"

"Some of the other contestants have noticed you talking with the prince and they don't like it." She says. "We know he'd never actually fall in love with _you._" Belle raises a sardonic eyebrow but remains silent. "You'd never end up with him so it doesn't bother _us_ that you talk. In fact it probably helps us. But we think the other girls might be planning to stop you."

"Um thanks, I think. I appreciate the warning. Tom mentioned the possibility of retaliation earlier, so I've prepared."

Her sisters nod. Before Jasmine speaks up. "Do you think we could have some tea now?"

Belle smiles at her sisters and pours cups for each of them. "Of course."


End file.
